


Ambiguity Tolerance, 1938

by Kate_Marley



Series: 1938 [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Historical, Historical References, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 12:18:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2309408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kate_Marley/pseuds/Kate_Marley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Austria catches Prussia off guard playing the flute. So what? Not for Prussia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ambiguity Tolerance, 1938

Fear is like a tree  
That grows inside of me silently  
And you could be my blood  
And be a part of me secretly  
 _~ The Rasmus: Open My Eyes ~_  


The house was silent. Germany had had to accompany that crazy Austrian with the moustache on some kind of meeting. The other Austrian — the sissy who lived at their house since March —, had gone for a walk after declaring he was unable to write any kind of music with a bored Prussia around whose sole purpose seemed to be straining other people’s nerves.

So … this was his chance, Prussia supposed. He snatched his transverse flute and some crinkly sheets of music from the back of his wardrobe and sneaked to the music room. He didn’t want to get caught — especially not by that sissy, of all people. It wasn’t that he was no good at playing the flute. He was Awesome Prussia, after all — he was gorgeous at _everything._ Besides, he played that ivory flute for about two hundred years now, since the day Friedrich (who hadn’t been called ‘Old Fritz’ then) had first shown him how to get anything resembling a melody out of that thing. No, he didn’t want other people to know that he did something as un-awesome as making music. Music was for sissies, not for warriors. Friedrich was an exception — even if he _had_ thought the Prussian crown prince to be a sissy once. But that was before he had seen him on the battlefield.

Prussia sat down at the music stool and spread the sheets of some of Friedrich’s flute sonatas on the music rack of Austria’s piano. Friedrich had always told him that playing while standing was better, but Prussia didn’t want to waste time rummaging for a music stand. Besides, in case the sissy returned earlier than expected, the flute and the sheets alone were easier to hide than a stand.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Austria _did_ return earlier than expected. He had hoped for some peace and quiet, walking through the streets of Berlin, watching people hurry by, mostly purchasing victuals. But how could anyone gain peace and quiet in a city like Berlin, with all those signs telling everybody that this was a Jewish shop where ‘real’ Germans were not supposed to buy? No, he did not think Schuschnigg’s way of not actively encouraging anti-Jewish sentiment while not preventing people from privately blocking Jewish shops either had been that much better. But at least, it had been _some people_ blocking those shops. Not _Austria_. He knew what he would have seen, had he been in Vienna now, and it hurt.

As a country, you were bound to endure whatever your bosses did. Austria was sad for both Germany and Prussia. He was also sad because the man who led their state now was from his country. There were moments when it felt like art and music were the only continuities in his life keeping him sane.

Austria entered the house in a rather depressed mood — and stopped. He heard flute music, soft and delicate. The country closed his eyes and listened to the sweet, sad sounds. It was touching, as if someone had heard his previous thoughts and responded to it in the language Austria understood best. Silently, not wanting to disturb the player, he followed the beautiful melody to the music room — and could only stare.

It was Prussia. Prussia in his military uniform, playing with closed eyes, sheets in front of him forgotten, absorbed in his flute music.  
Austria instantaneously felt how precious this moment was. What he saw was definitely not meant for his eyes, but— But it was touching.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Prussia finished his piece and wanted to rummage for another one when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a dark shadow at the door. He turned — and jumped, almost dropping his flute.  
The sissy. Of all people. Looking at him with an expression in those disturbingly violet eyes he had never seen before.

‘Please play on’, the Austrian said quietly.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Of course, the Prussian did not play on. As if Austria had expected he would, if he tried to hide his musicality so hard. Instead, Prussia sank on the music stool, cheeks turning bright red.

‘This was one of Friedrich’s flute concerts, wasn’t it?’, Austria asked, not knowing what else to say. ‘I never knew you could play the flute so well.’

‘And you weren’t supposed to!’, Prussia shouted. ‘That fucking music is for sissies like you.’

Silence.

‘What?’ _Aggressively._

And suddenly, Austria understood. ‘So this is what this is about’, he whispered, more to himself than to Prussia.

‘ _What_ is _what_ about?’

‘You think only … effeminate men love art and music.’ He would not say ‘sissies’. _Never._ Even if calling himself ‘effeminate’ was hardly any better.

‘That doesn’t really come to you as a deep revelation, sissy, does it?’ _Condescending._

Austria ignored it. ‘But this is also about Friedrich, isn’t it?’

Prussia froze.

Austria did not need more to tell him how close to home he had hit. He carefully chose his next sentence: ‘He _was_ attracted to men after all, wasn’t he?’

‘Shut up! Don’t talk about him like that! You haven’t the faintest!’ This time, there was an almost inexistent tremble in Prussia’s voice. But Austria was a musician; he heard what escaped other people’s attention. A small crack in Prussia’s façade. The idea of trying to break it down for revenge was tempting, but the one with slightly sadistic tendencies was not him.

‘Yet, he was also brave. A reckless warrior.’ Austria thought about all the times he had met him — and Prussia — on the battlefield. ‘Friedrich was one of the very few princes of his time who actually fought on the front lines.’

‘Yes, that’s what he really was!’, Prussia cried. ‘A warrior. Not a sissy.’

‘You _do_ realize being a warrior and loving music are no binary opposites, don’t you?’ Austria almost smiled. ‘Being attracted to men and being attracted to women isn’t either. In fact, I believe most people are attracted to both sexes at least in some way.’

‘So _what_ are you telling me? That you’re bisexual?’

‘I was telling you what I just said: You mustn’t think any less of Fritz if he was attracted to men. And music. That doesn’t mean he was weak.’ Now, Austria was really smiling, and it showed in his voice. ‘But if you must know: Yes, I consider myself bisexual.’

‘But how … How can you say something like that like it’s nothing? Like it doesn’t matter? Like being with men isn’t mortally dangerous, these days. Again.’ Prussia sounded almost desperate. Austria’s heart went out to him. _How can I_ not _love you, Gilbert?,_ he thought. _Despite everything._

‘Because it _is_ nothing. Because it _does not_ matter. And I don’t care what the party thinks of me’, Austria said firmly. Besides, the question whether both of them would die anyway had not been settled yet.

‘How could you live like this for so long without cracking up?’ Prussia looked him in the eyes. His guards were down. Pretence gone. Austria had been right: There _was_ despair in his eyes. And something else. Curiosity? Some sort of respect? Austria could not tell.

‘Because Elizaveta always understood’, Austria answered, honestly. ‘She loved me. And I loved her. I still do.’ He did not suppose Prussia realised how much this confession actually cost him. It was almost twenty years now that they were separate countries, but waking up without her still hurt. It still felt like a part of him had just been ripped away.

At first, Prussia simply glared. Austria remembered that Prussia had always had a soft spot for Hungary. Perhaps being told what you did not want to acknowledge was worse than knowing it all along, deep down. But when Prussia spoke, it was not about his feelings for Hungary. ‘If you really loved Elizaveta … why didn’t you tell yourself you were heterosexual and pretend everything was fine all along?’

_Because that word didn’t exist at that time anyway, silly._ No, Austria would not answer like this. It was tempting, but it would have been cheating. ‘When I was young, I did’, he answered, thoughtfully. ‘But when I grew older, I became tired of not acknowledging to myself who I really am. Besides, you cannot live for centuries loving only one person, and I never wanted to lie to Elizaveta.’

‘How can you have a woman like Elizaveta and still want anyone else?’ Yes, Prussia’s guards really _were_ down.

Austria knew it showed bad manners to answer a question with a question, but he could not resist this time. If this was to be getting him anywhere … ‘If _you_ really love Elizaveta, why did you kiss _me_ in November 1918?’ He could have mentioned other dates, but thought one would suffice.

‘Oh c’mon, sissy, don’t jump to the wrong conclusions here. We were both in the same boat, I needed someone to get rid of my frustration and you were just _there,_ that’s all. You’re pretty as a girl anyways, so I could as well kiss _you_ and pretend you’re a woman.’ Guards up again. Austria sighed. ‘Besides, if Elizaveta had been there, she’d just hit me with one of her damn frying pans again. — Come to think of it, if she’d seen us then, she’d probably have hit us _both_.’

‘No, she wouldn’t. She knows I love you.’

_That_ silenced him.

Pause.

‘Wha— _What?’_

‘I certainly will not repeat this’, Austria replied, sounding strained. He knew he gambled. He had revealed too much already. Either he had just given Prussia the perfect weapon to bully him for the following _years,_ or …

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Prussia stared at Austria. No, not Austria. _Roderich._ He had always believed the other country was _too weak_ to shove him away when he slipped and revealed his desire. It had never crossed his mind that Austria actually _wanted_ to be kissed.

‘So …’ He carefully paced the flute on the keys and turned to Austria. ‘You think it’s all right if I kiss you?’

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Austria released a breath he had not realised he had held. ‘Yes, stupid. Yes, it is.’

He smiled as Prussia crossed the room and almost crushed him into the doorframe when their lips connected. Some things probably never changed.

Open my eyes, let me see you  
And blow this blinding darkness away  
Open my eyes, let me find you  
Give me a sign  
 _~ The Rasmus: Open My Eyes ~_  


**Author's Note:**

> All right. This is the first fan fiction I’ve written in years — and the first slash / shounen ai story I’ve _ever_ written —, so I’d really love to hear your opinion. Please feel free to point out grammar mistakes as well whenever you spot them (the story is not beta-ed).
> 
> Both Roddy and Gil are probably OOC, but I always wanted to write a story in which Roddy does _not_ come across as a weakling, cause I don’t think he is. I fell in love with that character (and Hetalia), when he expressed his anger with Chopin’s Nocturne in F Major in the sixth episode. Besides, I like Austria (the geographical entity ^^), and I love classical music, though, admittedly, Chopin has never been among my favourites. But then, I don’t play the piano.
> 
> ~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
> 
>  
> 
> **Some references, historical and other:**
> 
>  
> 
> **Ambiguity tolerance** or, rather, ambiguity tolerance-intolerance, is a psychological construct indicating whether individuals react to cultural and other differences in an open way or whether they consider them as a threat.
> 
> The idea of most people being **bisexual at least to some degree** has been taken from the Kinsey Reports, two books by American biologist Alfred Charles Kinsey (1894-1956) titled _Sexual Behavior in the Human Male_ (1948) and _Sexual Behavior in the Human Female_ (1953). Based on his so-called ‘Kinsey scale’, he claims 90-95% of all people were attracted to both men and women in some degree. (Mind you, ‘attracted’. He never said all of them acted it out.)
> 
> **Friedrich / ‘Old Fritz’ / the Prussian crown prince** is Frederick II ‘the Great’ of Prussia (1712-1786), who reigned since the death of his authoritarian father Frederick William I (1688-1740), the so-called ‘Soldier King’. Frederick William hated his son’s affinity to art and music; he wanted him to be a military man, not an educated flutist. Frederick II became both. Many historians have assessed the question of his sexuality, with answers ranging from ‘heterosexual, but had greater priorities than women’ to ‘bisexual’ to ‘homosexual’. If we believe his physician Johann Georg Zimmermann (1728-1795), he might have been celibate due to a surgical operation having mutilated his genitalia (which doesn’t answer the question, though).
> 
> A **transverse flute** is a baroque flute, tuned to a’ = ca. 390-400 Hz (instead of 440 Hz today). Like Prussia in my story, Frederick owned one made of ivory.
> 
> Kurt Alois Josef Johann **Schuschnigg** (1897-1977) was chancellor of a Catholic fascist regime in Austria from July 1934, when his predecessor Dr Engelbert Dollfuß was assassinated by German agents, to March 1938, when Germany annexed Austria. My story is set shortly after this so-called ‘Anschluss’.
> 
> WWI ended on 11 **November 1918** with a defeat of the Central Powers, foremost among them Germany and Austria-Hungary. As one consequence of the defeat, Hungary split from Austria.
> 
> ~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
> 
> German translation: <http://www.fanfiktion.de/s/5421ae7d00042e272387e860/1/Ambiguitaetstoleranz-1938>


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